


Death Ray

by melianthegreat



Series: Evil Genius James May [1]
Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Evil Genius James May, Evil James, Evil Plans, World Domination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 02:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14298885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melianthegreat/pseuds/melianthegreat
Summary: James May likes to build death rays in his garden shed. Richard and Jeremy have to stop him.





	Death Ray

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because RockyMountainRattlesnake (Snakefire) wrote a story with a tag called Evil Genius James May and that really needs to become a thing.

"Hammond?"

"Yeah, James?"

"I've built a death ray.....you want to see?"

When Richard got this phone call at home, spending his weekend with his family at Hammond Towers, he was admittedly dubious. It had been awhile since James had last tried anything genuinely nefarious, he was between series of _The Reassembler_ , a trigger for him, and Richard thought he and Jeremy had done an excellent job keeping him occupied; after all in James May's case, a bored mind is a dangerous mind. But something about the glee in his voice, the sheer delight and excitement over what he'd done, disturbed Richard enough to keep him awake that night.

Finally he decided to call Jeremy. Jeremy Clarkson was Hammond's partner on this, the only two who knew James well enough to talk him down from these occasional manic phases when he'd tinker about in his shed and fix his bike (build a death ray)/concoct a new kind of lubricant for the bearings in his washing machine (build a death ray)/split the atom (build a death ray).

It was 1 in the morning. Jeremy suffered from insomnia. Of course he'd be awake. "Hello?" Yep. Awake.

"Jeremy? Richard."

"Hamster, what the fuck are you doing calling me at 1 in the morning?" 

"What do you know about James' activities lately?"

There was a pause. "Well, we've had a quiet period lately. But production on the new _Reassembler_ series started a few days ago, so he bears watching." Those were words Richard didn't want to hear. "I checked on him yesterday and he was trying to repair his lawnmower."

"Uh oh," Richard muttered. "Jezza, he called me last night. He says he's built a death ray."

"What? _Again??_ That bastard! I just recovered from the last time he built a death ray!" The last time there had been a struggle. Jeremy Clarkson was hardly the definition of athletic prowess. James had the reputation of avoiding fights, but could hold his own when necessary. So there were injuries. Richard could hear Jeremy sigh over the phone. "Alright. How soon can you get here from Wales?"

"In a 911? A couple of hours," Richard answered. "But if James sees us pull up in the Heromobile, he's going to know something is up."

"Which is why we'll take my Merc," Jeremy replied.

"The Cockmobile?" Richard groaned. "With the gull wing doors that announce our presence ten miles away and I can't reach?"

"Oh, for God's sake!" Jeremy thundered. "Alright, fine," he finally grumbled. "When you get here, we'll take the Volvo. May won't be the wiser."

***

Richard managed to arrive at Jeremy's flat in enough time to get a couple hours kip on the couch. At dawn, Jeremy handed him a slice of toast and a cup of coffee and they trundled their way to Hammersmith in the Volvo. 

"It's way too fucking early in the morning to be dismantling death rays," Jeremy griped.

"I'm with you there, mate," Richard yawned in reply. "Do you think this time he's actually built one that...you know...works?"

"He's been getting closer each time," Jeremy stated. "And May's a genius. It wouldn't surprise me to discover he's finally cracked it." There was silence. "What do you think he wants this time?" Jeremy finally asked. "Does he want to take over the world, or does he simply want to kill people?"

Richard pondered that. "Well, first he builds the death ray, then it depends on size," he answered. "If it's a personal size, somebody has pissed him off and he wants to kill them. Bigger than that, we listen to demands of some kind."

"And then we restrain him and bash the fucker into a million pieces," Jeremy added. They parked down the street from James' house."I brought hammers. How are you protecting yourself? "

Richard pulled out a Glock, checking the clip and popping it back into position. "I'm not leaving myself defenseless, not this time," Richard offered, his tone dark.

Jeremy let out a breath. "They let you have one of those?" he asked.

"Remember when that bullshit story ran about Hammond Towers being invaded, and I knew it never happened because I was there and nothing was stolen?" Jeremy nodded. "Let's just say the Fort Knox style security system isn't the only thing protecting me and mine." 

Jeremy shook his head. "There are times when your life in the countryside is a bit disturbing, if not scary," he stated. 

Richard arched an eyebrow. "Any scarier than a mate who likes to build death rays?" he countered. Richard checked the safety on his pistol, tucking it into the back of his jeans and covering it with his shirt. "Let's go."

They entered James' garden by the back gate and knocked on the kitchen door. Quickly, and unexpectedly, James opened the door and smiled at them. "Clarkson, Hammond, come in," he said. "You're just in time for breakfast."

Stepping inside, Richard and Jeremy looked around; they were surprised to see a normal kitchen--no death ray in sight. "So, what brings you around this morning?" James asked.

"I think you know why we're here," Richard answered quietly.

"Oh, that," James smiled. "But, before all that, let's eat." 

***

Breakfast was a mostly silent affair. Jeremy and Richard said nothing, subdued by the tension of their mission, while James hummed along happily, which is what he did when working on something. He made sure there was plenty of food for all of them; James May might have been a troubled genius who flirted with homicidal megalomania and liked to build death rays in his garden shed, but there was no doubt the man could cook.

Finally, the meal finished, the dishes rinsed and placed in the dishwasher, James turned to face his mates, still at the kitchen table. "I suppose you want to see it now?" he stated. Both men nodded. He shrugged. "Alright. But let's make this quick. I have a lot to do today." He walked out the back door and motioned for them to follow. 

"Hammond," Jeremy muttered, "make sure you're ready to use that." Richard nodded in acknowledgement.

James opened the door to the garden shed and ushered them inside. Once their eyes adjusted they noticed dismantled lawnmowers, engine parts, and the remains of a washing machine among the normal items James kept there. Something was hidden under a tarpaulin. Unceremoniously James lifted the covering and revealed a large death ray. It wasn't large enough to take over the world, but at least James could take out Central London if he so wished.

Jeremy and Richard both gasped. "James," Richard asked, "do you mean to tell me you built a death ray out of lawnmower parts and an old washing machine?"

"Like it's hard?" James asked back in reply. 

"Oh bloody hell-- of course it's hard, you blithering idiot!" Jeremy snapped. "If it wasn't everyone would have a death ray sitting in their garden shed!"

"It's amazing what you can find on the internet," James mused, staring at his creation with admiration. "Cat videos, free porn, instructions on how to build a death ray...I could teach you how to build one."

"No, thank you," Richard answered. "It would only turn into a competition on who could build the biggest one."

"Which would, naturally be mine," Jeremy crowed. "Yours, Hamster, would be the smallest."

"It's not the size of your death ray that counts," Richard shot back, "it's how you use it." There was a pause. "James, you're being awfully sanguine about all this. You know what Jezza and I are here to do."

"Yes, I know," he acknowledged. "I wasn't sure if you believed me, but here you are and all I can say is: curses, foiled again. If you must, you must."

"I'll go get the hammers," Jeremy announced. "Can we trust you, May?"

James nodded. "I will keep my hands visible at all times," he said. "And besides, Hammond has a gun. I've known that since before our road trip to Virginia. He'd be a fool if he didn't bring it with him, especially after the last time."

Jeremy looked sideling at James, but decided to trust him. When he returned to the house, however, hammers in tow, he was shocked to find Richard out cold on the floor, James casually tinkering with his death ray. "Hammond!" Jeremy shouted, rushing over to him. He checked for a pulse and found one. "Rich, speak to me," he muttered, patting his cheeks. "Hammo? Hammo?" But Richard stayed out. Jeremy glared up at James. "What did you do, you _fiend?!_ You know you can't hit him in the head! You know what he's been through!"

"Relax, I didn't hit him," James waved him off. "I just slipped a tranquilizer into his coffee. Took longer than I thought it would. Only had time to give it to him, however."

"So that still leaves me," Jeremy replied, holding up a hammer. "Which leaves me a choice which thing to bash first--that death ray, or your pointy head."

"Assuming you know nothing about my knockout gas," James answered as he pulled a gas mask over his face.

"What knockout gas?"

" _This_ knockout gas." With that James pulled out an aerosol can and sprayed. It didn't take long; within a few breaths Clarkson was out on the floor with Hammond.

***

"Jeremy? Jeremy? Wake up."

Jeremy slowly opened his eyes. He found himself sitting on the floor of the garden shed with Richard, tied together back-to-back. Hammond was awake, shaking the cobwebs out of his head. "Jezza? Are you alright? What did he do to you?"

"The arse sprayed me," Jeremy announced, his voice a combination of anger, surprise, and wonder. "How stupid! He can build a death ray, of course he could come up with a formula for knockout gas." He looked around. "Where is he?"

"I'm not sure," Richard answered. "He may have gone back in the house. Can you get your hands free?"

Jeremy struggled, but James had tied their hands well. "Bloody hell," he muttered after a moment. "When did he learn how to tie knots?" He sighed. "At least we can try the old trick in the movies. If I can grab your gun...wait, where's your gun?"

"I think that's it," Richard answered, staring up at the work table above him.

Jeremy scooted himself and Richard around until he could take a look. "And my hammers!" he gasped. 

James took the opportunity at that moment to return. "Ah, glad to see you're awake," he said to both. "I had to get some tea. Hard to function in most things without some tea." With that, James removed the tarpaulin he'd replaced and resumed working.

"What do you intend to do, James?" Jeremy asked. 

"Naturally, Clarkson, I intend to take over England," James stated matter-of-factly, not bothering to look his way. "I'm going to put this death ray in Central London, then ring up Number 10 and give them my demands for power, or I'll use it." He turned around and viewed the stunned expressions of his mates. "Oh, don't look so shocked!" he scoffed. "You know I've always strived for power. You, Clarkson, talked about wanting power yourself. The difference between us is that I am willing to do something to achieve it. But I'm willing to share. Hammond, how would you like Wales all for your own? I'll give it to you. Jeremy wants certain things I agree with. It wouldn't be a stretch to let him have a position of authority in my command. The only thing I require is that you obey me and what I wish. What do you say?"

"I have a question," Richard said, trying to stall for time. "Exactly how does this death ray work? Does it work?"

"Oh, it definitely works," James told him. "And I shall now demonstrate." He grabbed an apple and placed it on a table. Pointing the ray at the apple, James flipped a few switches. There was a hum, a throbbing Jeremy and Richard could feel through the floor. The humming increased in pitch and volume until it became a loud whine. There was light and a rush of heat. And all that was left of the apple was something brown and dehydrated and shriveled on the table. James held up the carcass of the fruit for his mates to see.

Jeremy looked nonplussed. "That's it? I've seen you do worse when you overbaked an Apple Brown Betty."

"Imagine the whole of Central London as an Apple Brown Betty and you'll get the idea," James smiled evilly. "The PM and the Queen will do as I ask or the whole area will become so much overdone pastry.You can join me, or join them."

Jeremy glared at him; over the years Richard and James both had been on the business end of that deadly stare. It was a stare that was more than bluster--this was Jeremy Clarkson when he was really, truly, honestly, seriously pissed off. This stare could level a mountain, and contained more heat than any death ray James could ever build. "I cannot believe you, May," he growled. "You are absolutely fucking barmy, you know that? Do you believe Hammond and I would ever go along with this? Even for power?"

"Jeremy, need I remind you of our situation?" Richard muttered to him. " Don't piss him off. He has a _working_ death ray!"

"Just go along," Jeremy muttered back. "I think I got my hands loose." He turned his attention back to James. "What kind of moron thinks someone who wants to take over the world would be willing to share?" he continued. "You want things your own way, and we'd simply be in the way. I mean, what a complete idiot!" Then he started laughing, and that succeeded in making James angry.

James waited until Jeremy stopped laughing, then stared down at him with contempt. "I gave you a choice," he responded, his voice cool and calm. "And choosing to accept would have ensured you and your families lived longer. But you not only reject my offer, you mock me!" He grabbed Jeremy by the collar and pulled him--and, by extension, Richard--to his feet, Richard secretly marvelling at how strong James really was when he was off the deep end. "Hammond, take a good look," James ordered him. "This is what happens to those who reject my offer!"

"James, don't!" Richard pleaded. "Jezza's your best mate, you don't want to do this!"

"He's right about one thing, Hammond," James replied, untying the rope that bound Jeremy and Richard together "I really don't want to share. I only said that because it's expected of me to make the gesture. And I expected at least one of you to be enough of a pillock to accept it. But no, so the price must be paid." James pulled Jeremy over to the death ray and pointed it at him.

"James, wait!" Richard shouted. "What if I accepted? Would that spare Jezza?"

James smiled at him and seemed to consider his offer. "No," he answered and flipped the switches. 

Jeremy dove and rolled and came up at the work table that held his hammers with his hands free, a maneuver that would have made Wolverine proud; the only thing he lacked were the Adamantium claws. Whipping around with a hammer in his hand, Jeremy gave a primal yell and ran at the death ray, smashing it wildly. "No!" James screamed. For the moment Richard was unnoticed, which was the time he needed to get his hands out of the bonds that held them. He grabbed the Glock just as James reached for his aerosol can. 

"No you don't!" Richard announced. "You know I can get a shot off before your finger comes down on that knockout gas. Don't fuck with me!" James froze; he knew Hammond wasn't bluffing, especially if he felt his family was at risk. And the look in Richard's eyes said he was definitely protecting them now. As much as that certain look from Jeremy could burn a planet, this look from Richard could freeze running water in mid-flow. 

Jeremy continued to smash the death ray until every time he hit it sparks flew. And that was all well and good until a shrill beeping interrupted him. "What the hell is that?" he asked.

"That's the smoke detector, you pillock!" James answered.

"You started a em>fire, you great, gangly cretin!" Richard shouted st Jeremy. "That death ray was hot!"

"Grab the hammers!" Jeremy shouted. They ran for the door. Which, naturally, was locked. "Where's the key?" he asked James.

"The fire's blocking it,' James answered. "We're trapped!" 

"Shit, shit shit!" Jeremy bellowed. "May, only you'd be an evil genius who takes the time to deadbolt the door from the inside!" 

"I got this," Richard said and pointed the gun at the door.

"With that?!" Jeremy replied. "This isn't the time for you to channel Don Johnson!" But Richard didn't listen. As the black smoke filled the shed Richard aimed and fired several shots at the lock, destroying it. He kicked the door open and he and Jeremy ran outside, coughing.

"You okay, Hammo?" Jeremy asked when he could catch his breath. Richard, still coughing, merely nodded. "James? You--" He turned. James wasn't there. "Where's--" 

Suddenly there was an explosion. The shed flew apart and knocked both Richard and Jeremy off their feet. At their same time they sat up and stared back at the destruction.

"Oh, God," Jeremy muttered. "May, he's gone."

Richard shook his head. "Nope," he answered, popping the 'p' in the word. "He has an escape route."

Jeremy stared slack jawed st Richard. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"I came to before you did, remember? I had time to look around and noticed the trap door. Plus, the smoke was the perfect cover for his escape. We were in a locked room together. Assuming we knew nothing about the trap door, we'd tell the authorities if we got out that he was disintegrated in the explosion. If we didn't get out, we'd be dead and he'd escape. "

"So, where is he now?"

"Off and running," Richard told him. "He wouldn't be an evil genius if he stuck around to get caught. And chances are he'll have some sense knocked back into him for a bit."

"At least until he gathers enough parts to build another death ray," Jeremy replied. He sighed. "Okay," he said, rubbing his hands together, "so this version of the evil James May is dead. Along with his death ray."

"As it were," Richard agreed. He paused a beat. "Anyway..."

The End (?)

**Author's Note:**

> Again with the weirdness:writing the fite/locked in the shed/escape moment what popped up was a song by a group called Utopia called "Feet Don't Fail Me Now". Look it up, hilariously appropriate.


End file.
